


Number List Collection 2

by Maybethings



Series: May Be Promptin' [99]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, Number List, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 01:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maybethings/pseuds/Maybethings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A second round of number list challenges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. m!Hawke, Shale, the Vallen/Hendyr wedding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cherith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherith/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [m!Hawke] and [Shale] go to Aveline and Donnic's wedding.

“You make a beautiful couple,” Byrne Hawke says warmly to the two of them, hugging Aveline and clasping Donnic’s arm. “Here’s to a long and healthy life, for both of you.”

“I would prefer a peaceful one,” Aveline says.

“You?” Donnic smiles and kisses her on the cheek. “I think you’d be bored to death.”

So does Byrne. But he steps back to watch them wend their way down the steps of the Chantry. Small wedding or no, the Guard-Captain getting married is still a Relatively Big Affair in Kirkwall, and many are waiting to see the newlyweds for the first time.

They walk as one, past the severe, gilded falcons and a craggy, rough-hewn statue that the mage doesn’t remember seeing before. A dove, pure white—there’s nothing pure white in Kirkwall, it’s almost a sign from the Maker—alights on its shoulder prettily.

Quick as a wink the statue’s opposite arm shoots out, crushing the bird like a grape and spattering Aveline’s veil with blood. One eyeball goes splotch against Byrne’s best robes.

“Feathered vermin!” it growls, and Byrne feels his jaw go slack.


	2. Ketojan, Alistair, Fenris, birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Ketojan] and [Alistair] celebrate a birthday for [Fenris].

“I do not think he likes cheese,” Ketojan said doubtfully.

“Nonsense!” the sandy-haired Warden said briskly, dusting some imaginary crumbs off his hands. “You’d have to be inhuman to like cheese.”

“Then perhaps I am,” a gravelly voice growls behind them. Ketojan turns, a spark of electricity rising unbidden to his fingertips. Alistair just shrieks like a girl. “What are you fooling around with, behind you?”

“Ah, well. I hear from a certain saucy pirate that today is the day you made it to Kirkwall. So, the mage and I—”

“—The mage may keep his goodwill. I do not want it.”

“—Yes, well. _Ketojan and I_ thought it would be nice to get you something.” He presented the elf with an ornately wrapped blade.

“A dagger?”

“A cheese knife!” Alistair corrected him enthusiastically. “But I suppose you could use it as a dagger. I knew a man called Olaf, who—”

“This is not a day of celebration,” Fenris said, pulling dourly at the ribbons around the knife. “I have no nameday. Not even a name, in a sense. All I have is the path behind me, and the path ahead.”

“But it _is_ the first step to becoming free,” said the Warden seriously. “Making a choice. Choosing a direction.” He smiled. “Knew a woman like that, once. She made her choice. Never regretted it.”

The elf tested the weight of the…weapon in his hands. “Do not think me ungrateful,” he said quietly. “Only…unused to such gifts. I will put this to good use.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will!” That was when Alistair brought out a whole wheel of Orlesian cheese, which led Fenris and Ketojan to glance at each other before shaking their heads in stupefaction.


End file.
